


Forgiveness

by kronette



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Bronze Age, M/M, Rough Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been over six months since Kronos had tasted him, and Methos was not ready to allow Kronos back into his tent.  It was his form of silent punishment for the Cassandra incident.  She had been his to deal with, and Kronos had interfered.  For that, Methos had kept up a steady stream of women and men nightly in his tent, the understanding that when Methos was ready, Kronos would be allowed back in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Meg W and Sue G for beta-reading this; helped a lot, gals! And thanks to NIN, for providing me with inspiration. "closer" and "head like a hole" were great for this story! Originally posted in 1997 under my other pseud, Shelley Wright.

Methos rode up to the Horsemen's camp, returning from a scouting mission. His thoughts were occupied, not with what he had learned of the village, but of their conquests in the past weeks. An evil smile curled his lips as he remembered the looks of absolute terror on the faces of those he killed. Those faces were slowly replaced by others, women mostly, though young men were often suitable, as he took his rough pleasure of them. Their pleading screams echoed in his head, and he closed his eyes, letting the bloodlust course through his veins, exciting him.

One woman's image entered his head, and he frowned. The Horsemen had been raiding another village, this time of medium size. As the people ran from their tents in hysterics, Methos spotted a young woman pulling her father out of one of the horse's way. Her waist-length hair whipped around her like a cloak, black as the night sky. He had jumped down off his horse, his mind set on capturing the young woman. But Kronos reached her first. From barely ten feet away, Methos watched as Kronos ran her through, her father pleading for her life. Methos ran the rest of the way to Kronos as she fell at his feet, dead.

Kronos turned to face Methos, locking gazes with him. "Sorry Brother," he said, smiling cheerfully, "looks like you were too late."

The bloodlust was still running high in Methos' veins, and he raised his blade, chest heaving with anger. Kronos' cheerfulness faded, and he became deadly serious as Methos' blade hovered above his head.

Methos kept his gaze on Kronos as he swung his sword downward, striking the father dead, his body falling on top of his daughter's. Neither Immortal spared them a glance. Their eyes were locked on one another. Slowly, Methos turned and walked away, his sword clenched tightly in his hand.

That anger fired Methos' blood now, and he reined in his horse with an angry jerk. His emotions were too high; he could not go into camp. He would pick a fight with one of his brothers, and then Kronos would step in. And then...

Methos grimaced as though he tasted bile, but his cock stirred, two reactions to the same stimulus. Kronos. His Brother. His companion. His other half. Despite his will, despite his resistance, he and Kronos had grown closer than any other lover that Methos had taken.

His cock stirred again, and he shifted uncomfortably. It seemed no matter his thoughts, his body craved Kronos. But he would not yield, not yet. It had been over six months since Kronos had tasted him, and Methos was not ready to allow Kronos back into his tent. It was his form of silent punishment for the Cassandra incident. She had been his to deal with, and Kronos had interfered. For that, Methos had kept up a steady stream of women and men nightly in his tent, the understanding that when Methos was ready, Kronos would be allowed back in. As he had in the past, Kronos would wait, but not for much longer. But then, Methos himself could not wait much longer.

Groaning, Methos spared a glance to his surroundings. He heard water, so steered his mount in that direction. Soon, he pulled up beside a small river. It looked deep in places, deep enough for a swim. Methos felt the heat of the sun pounding his body, felt still his hot arousal. Dismounting gracefully, he quickly stripped off his clothing, tossing it haphazardly onto the lush, green grass below his now naked feet. Taking his sword from its holder on his saddle, he placed it near the edge of the river, within easy reach if he felt another Immortal approach.

He knelt down, staring at his reflection in the water. He studied his face, half covered with blue woad, all covered by dust and blood and sweat. He dipped his hands in the water and quickly scrubbed his face, gasping as the cool water ran down his naked torso. Feeling a bit better, he slipped into the river, maneuvering over to a deep spot near the middle, the lukewarm water teasing over his nipples, the cooler wind hardening them.

He sank down up to his neck, the temperature of the water doing nothing to help the hardness between his thighs. He took a deep breath, then ducked under the water, bursting up through the surface a few seconds later, brushing his long hair off his face. Coughing slightly, he dove again, swimming part-way downstream, then back again. The movement of water gliding over his skin only heightened his senses, and he felt his cock grow stiffer. Wincing, he moved closer to the riverbank, bracing his back against a rock. The sun had warmed it, that heat mingling with his body's increasing temperature. He groaned again, his fingers teasing along his cock. He raked his nails along his shaft, closing his eyes as he imagined it was Kronos' hand on him, giving him pleasure.

He started thrusting into his hand, squeezing painfully hard, digging his other hand into his thigh, shuddering from the pain/pleasure coursing through his body. It still wasn't enough. He bit his lip, the bitter taste of blood running over his tongue as his breathing coursed out of control. Pounding his fist on the rock he leaned against, then gripping it tightly, he felt the rock cutting into his flesh. It still wasn't enough. It was never enough. Only Kronos was able to give him exactly what he needed. He knew now that he needed his Brother. Thinking of Kronos escalated his need, and he groaned as his cock responded. Raking his hand down his chest, he scratched at his nipples, drawing blood. The hand that held his cock tightened, his head dropped forward, and he sobbed as he came powerfully, the force of his orgasm rippling through the water.

Slowly, he became aware of his surroundings again. His back stung; he had rubbed it raw on the rock face. It would heal. The nail marks on his chest had already healed, and the blood had washed away. His body was recovering from the intense orgasm, the water now soothing warmth around him. But inside, there was still something missing. Something he still craved. Gathering himself, he rose from the river, his long hair plastered to his wet back, thin rivulets of rapidly cooling water cascading down his lean torso. He shivered once, bending over and grasping his hair, wringing out as best he could.

Shaking out his hair, he retrieved most of his clothes and put them in a pile, his sword resting on top. Lying back, he closed his eyes, letting the sun dry his naked body, spread regally across the bright green carpet of the high plains.

He must have dozed off, because his eyes snapped open as a Buzz filled his head. He sat up abruptly, grabbing his sword and moving agilely to his feet. He heard the stampeding of horses, then his fellow Horsemen came into view.

Kronos, in the lead, pulled up short in front of Methos, laughing. "I see you are well prepared, Brother!"

Methos glared up at the slighter man, eyes narrowed. He felt the weight of Kronos' stare on his naked body, and pushed his own body's reactions to it out of his mind. It would do no good to let Kronos see him aroused. Not until the timing was right, and on Methos' terms.

Methos kept his silence as he reached for his clothes, dressing quickly. Gracefully, he swung up on his saddle. "I am now," he finally answered, his voice low and hard. He spurred his mare on, taking off and leaving the band to catch up to him.

Kronos stared after Methos for a few seconds, his eyes shifting from green to gray as the sight of his Brother stirred his cock. He nudged his mount to a full gallop, overtaking Methos and cutting in front of him.

Methos pulled up short, turning his horse to the side. "What?" he snapped, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Why do you ride ahead, Brother?" Kronos asked, his voice filled with insinuation and questions. His eyes raked over Methos' now-clothed body, making Methos feel naked again.

The tightness was back, and Methos saw that it was not just his own. Kronos shifted on his saddle, his hand stealing down to adjust himself, keeping his eyes on Methos'.

Methos smiled knowingly. He was not the only one who had been deprived these past months. "Just trying to make camp by nightfall, Brother. It gets cold at night, and I wish a woman to keep me warm."

The other Horsemen were behind them, not quite out of hearing range. Kronos leaned in his saddle, toward Methos. "Women?" he scoffed. "I've seen you with children and old hags, but no  _women_. In fact, I'd say you haven't had a good fuck in a long time, Brother." His voice dropped to a raspy whisper, his own need taking control for an instant. "I could remind you of what a  _real_ fuck feels like."

Methos could not have ignored the raw desire on Kronos' face, even if he had not just spent himself a half hour ago. The fire was hot, burning too brightly for Methos to turn away. "Maybe I do not need a woman after all," Methos remarked casually, his gaze flicking to Kronos' groin in acknowledgment of his Brother's request.

"Maybe you do not," Kronos agreed, his eyes alight with hunger. He slapped his horse's flank, then aligned himself next to Methos. "Come straight to my tent upon our return."

Methos hesitated the briefest of seconds, then replied, "No. My tent." Without glancing to Kronos, Methos took off again, schooling his expression into careful neutrality as the other Horsemen caught up with him.

~~~~

They arrived at camp as the sun was setting. Slaves ran up to take care of the horses as they dismounted. Silas and Caspian went to the women's tents, choosing one or two to spend the cold night with. Methos and Kronos left their horses with the slaves, checking around camp once before reaching Methos' tent. Methos entered first, never giving Kronos a backward glance. He heard the flap fall closed, and braced himself mentally.

"You have been avoiding me," Kronos voice was harsh, right behind Methos' ear.

Methos didn't flinch, didn't show any sign that Kronos' close proximity had set his heart pounding and his blood racing.

Kronos' strong hands grabbed Methos' shoulders, though his touch was barely felt through the thick leather armor Methos wore. "Is it because of the woman?"

"Which one? There were so many," Methos replied in a neutral voice. This would be a battle of wills, seeing who would give in first. And Methos fully intended it to be Kronos this time.

"The daughter. The one I killed before you got to her," Kronos taunted Methos, his breath hot along Methos' neck.

"Her?" Methos scoffed. "A mere child. She could have been taught in the ways of a woman, though," he mused. One corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer. "From me, at least. You don't know how to gentle a woman."

Kronos' hands clenched on Methos' upper arms, his breathing ragged in Methos' ear. "Perhaps not. Perhaps, I would rather tame the young boys, the ones who can truly satisfy me." Kronos rocked his hips against Methos' ass, letting his Brother feel how hard he was getting.

Methos closed his eyes for longer than a blink. His breathing was deepening as his arousal began to build.

Kronos continued, "If it was not the girl, then what, dearest Brother, has kept you from me?" Kronos asked, his voice eerily quiet. His head darted around to Methos' other ear, hissing, "Was it the Immortal woman?"

Methos' body betrayed him. The slightest stiffening of his back, a tenseness in his shoulders. He could not lie. "Yes. I brought her back to camp; she was mine to deal with."

Kronos' presence was stifling, overpowering. "You grew attached. You forgot who your brothers were. She could not be allowed to interfere with... us." Kronos' speech was low, menacing, intensely erotic.

The way Kronos drew out 'us' sent a tremor through Methos' body. "I could never forget who my brothers are," Methos replied in his normal monotone. "And nothing could ever come between us, Brother." He pushed his hips back, brushing his ass against Kronos' erection.

A short gasp was ripped from Methos' lips as he was suddenly yanked back against Kronos. Kronos' arms wrapped tightly around his torso, trapping his arms at his sides

Kronos' breath was hot on the side of Methos' neck as he hissed, "Make sure you never forget that, Methos. You are too important to lose." Kronos' right hand slid down Methos' body, though Methos barely felt it. His leather armor was too thick, but as Kronos moved lower, Methos' breathing grew shallower.

"Is there something you desire, Brother?" Methos asked as casually as he could with Kronos' hands touching him.

"Of course, my Brother. Would you care for me to show you?" Kronos' voice dropped to a whisper while his hand continued its downward course. Kronos' hips were moving of their own volition, his own need finally overpowering his senses.

Methos reached up with his right hand and grabbed Kronos' left, gripping it tightly. "Do not start something you cannot finish," he hissed, arching his head back against Kronos' shoulder.

A long minute passed, with Kronos' hand resting at Methos' abdomen, just above his erection, and Methos waiting, anticipating.

"I always finish what I start," Kronos reminded Methos, grabbing Methos' cock through his pants, already damp with Methos' precum. "Unless it suits me otherwise."

Methos jerked in Kronos' arms, a strangled groan catching in his throat.

"You like that, don't you?" Kronos asked knowingly, biting just behind Methos' ear.

Methos swallowed another moan, unwilling to give Kronos the satisfaction of an answer. Methos kept silent, though his body said more than any words he could utter.

As close as Kronos was, Methos could feel Kronos' sex thrusting against his ass, and it sent another wave of desire through him. "Yes," Methos hissed, surrendering himself to Kronos.

For the first time, Kronos groaned, betraying his own intense need. His hand let up its arousal of Methos' cock, turning Methos in his arms. One of Kronos' hands cupped Methos' ass, the other his head, drawing Methos in tight against him, kissing him ferociously. There was no love in this kiss, it was brutal, demanding, possessive. More a duel than a sharing; more taking than giving.

Methos' hand gripped Kronos' upper arm, fingernails digging through the cloth straight to the skin, cutting into it. He leaned in and nipped at Kronos' lower lip, chuckling as he licked the blood from Kronos' lips.

Kronos gasped, thrusting his hips hard against Methos' at the dual assault. His eyes flew open, regarding Methos with a narrowed eye. Without warning, Kronos pushed him to the floor of the tent. Dropping on all fours, Kronos kneeled over him, watching him, seeing the challenge in his eyes.

Kronos lowered himself onto Methos, his mouth and body hard and demanding. Kronos' hands ripped at Methos' pants, shoving them to his knees. Methos tried to reach Kronos' pants, but Kronos was too fast for him. Kronos lifted his hips just enough to free his own cock, then lowered himself to Methos again, settling between his thighs.

Methos grunted, his legs trapped under Kronos' body. Kronos laughed, one corner of his mouth lifting in a sneer. "Payback's a bitch, isn't it Methos?" he rasped, lowering his mouth to Methos' for another hard kiss.

Methos' lips curled upward in a faint, knowing smile as he thrust his tongue between Kronos' lips, demanding to taste his Brother. He had been without his unique flavor too long. Methos clawed at Kronos' back, raking his nails along the armor, bloodying his own hands in the process.

Kronos chuckled, pulling back and staring down at Methos. "Do you want to touch me, Brother?" he whispered, quickly capturing Methos' hands and forcing them above Methos' head. With Kronos' knees against his hips and his hands held captive, Methos thrashed under Kronos, but couldn't break free of his hold.

"Kronos," Methos rasped, his breathing out of control. His hips arched up again into Kronos', his cock sliding against Kronos' own.

Kronos leaned down, biting at Methos' neck. "Well?" he murmured as he continued to break the tender skin of Methos' throat, until Methos gasped out, "Yes."

"Yes, what?" Kronos watched Methos' expression grow dark with anger, and his smile widened. "Oh no, Brother. You made me wait far too long for this. I'm going to hear you say it."

"Fuck you," Methos spat, his emotions too close to the surface for him to hide.

"Is that what you want? Why didn't you say so, Brother!" Kronos laughed at Methos, who struggled against him even harder.

Breaking one hand free, Methos reached immediately for Kronos' sex, his nails biting into it. He had Kronos' undivided attention. "Now, my dear Brother. You  _are_ going to fuck me," Methos challenged, "or I  _will_ take you with your face buried in the sand."

Kronos hardened in Methos' hand at his words and actions. "You do know what I like," Kronos whispered as he released Methos' hand, reaching immediately for his calves. Kronos shoved Methos' knees up to his stomach, positioning his cock at Methos' opening. He waited, watching Methos' eyes for signs that he was ready. Keeping his eyes locked on Methos', Kronos started to enter his Brother.

Pain twisted Methos' features, and he panted as Kronos continued to push into him, stretching him beyond his limits. Methos gritted his teeth against the pain, willing himself to surrender to it, until it finally crested into the most intense pleasure he had felt in a long time.

Kronos moaned as his cock was surrounded by Methos, his muscles tightening around him. "You always were a good fuck," Kronos hissed as he began to thrust, driving himself deep into his Brother.

"Could say the same about you," Methos rasped, reaching up and pulling Kronos down to him, devouring his mouth. As the pain subsided, Methos' erection grew even harder.

Kronos reached for Methos' cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. The pressure built quickly between them, the effects of being apart for so long. Methos' nails dug into Kronos' shoulders, cutting through the cloth with ease. Kronos pushed harder, on the brink of orgasm. With a deep growl, he came, burying himself deeply inside Methos.

Methos thrust into Kronos' hand hard, trying to reach his own climax before...

Kronos backed off abruptly, gasping for breath. He grinned, leaning back over Methos, careful not to touch him. "Are you uncomfortable, Brother?" Kronos hissed in Methos' ear, biting on the lobe sharply.

Methos' eyes flashed green, anger mingling with frustration. "What do you think?" he shouted, balling his fists at his sides. "Either finish this or I finish you," he threatened, his voice menacingly low.

"That's more like it," Kronos hissed, wrapping his hand around Methos' cock and stroking him firmly. He milked Methos for a few minutes, allowing himself the luxury of seeing Methos' expression, halfway between pleasure and pain. Kronos did so love watching his Brother just before he lost control.

"Let go, Methos," Kronos commanded softly, leaning down and locking his mouth on his Brother's, just as the climax ripped through Methos. Methos' body convulsed, his fingers cutting deeply into Kronos' back as Kronos swallowed his shout of ecstasy.

As they both came down off their high, Kronos fell beside Methos, gathering his strength. Still slightly out of breath, Kronos asked, "So, am I forgiven?"

Methos let out a wry chuckle. His entire body was spent, singing with pleasure. "I haven't decided yet," he replied, rolling over and facing Kronos, keeping his expression neutral as he added, "But I could be persuaded."

Kronos turned his head, staring at Methos in disbelief. Catching the twinkle in Methos' eye, he started to chuckle, working his way to full blown laughter. "Of course my Brother! When do you think I might finally earn your forgiveness?"

Methos studied Kronos' face, his gaze sliding down Kronos' body leisurely. "Oh, I'll let you know," he mused, reaching out and tugging himself over Kronos. He started licking at Kronos' jawline, tasting the salt of his sweat. "I think it might involve a lot of begging on your part..."

Kronos nearly sat up at that. "Begging? Me? Methos," he snarled, rolling over on top of his Brother. "I do not beg." He grinned. "But you will."

Methos' feelings were betrayed by his small smile, just before Kronos leaned down and recaptured his mouth. It was going to be a long time before Kronos was forgiven...

end


End file.
